Chapter 32 : Chapter 32
Chapter 32. Vigorously Cultivating the Knight Orders
As the day of the Knight Ceremony drew closer, the air of the Royal Capital carried a mixture of solemnity and restless anticipation.
Meanwhile, William’s recruitment efforts progressed far more smoothly than expected. The reputation that “the Fourth Prince favors commoners” had already spread widely.
Many young people with potential but no connections followed the rumors and came seeking him. Long lines formed outside the manor gates.
To accommodate the rapidly increasing numbers, William had purchased three manors outside the Royal Capital a few days earlier. The rows of gray-tiled buildings soon filled with newly recruited youths.
Through the connection of the Vice Principal of the Royal Academy, he also invited more than thirty retired instructors. Though they no longer possessed the vigor of their youth, each one was deeply experienced and focused on strengthening the foundations of the young trainees.
At present, the number of commoner youths following William had reached two thousand five hundred sixty-three.
Every day before dawn, synchronized shouts echoed across the training grounds of the three manors. The sound of blades striking wooden posts, the dull collisions of Dou Qi, and the thunder of galloping warhorses intertwined into a scene bursting with vitality.
The consumption of resources was astonishing.
The body-tempering potions and monster meat required each day alone cost nearly ten thousand gold coins.
Whenever Tos held the account ledger, he could not help but frown. William, however, remained calm.
“Your Highness, the price of monster meat rose by another twenty percent today,” Tos reported quietly.
“Buy it anyway.”
William did not even look up, his attention fixed on the training reports submitted by the instructors.
“As long as they achieve results, the expense is worth it.”
To stimulate their potential, he deliberately established a ranking system.
Every month, the three manors held a martial competition. The manor that ranked first would receive double resources. The second manor would maintain the same allocation. The third, ranked last, would lose all additional supplies.
The moment this rule was announced, the trainees ignited like dry tinder.
The once orderly training teams now charged forward with fierce determination. Everyone wanted to enter the First Manor, and no one wanted to fall to the bottom.
Some youths from once-declining noble families would cling to wooden posts and train until their arms went numb, all for an extra piece of monster meat.
Others from farming backgrounds secretly trained beneath the moonlight at night, afraid of being eliminated.
The confrontations on the training grounds grew increasingly intense. More injuries appeared, yet no one complained.
Because they all understood that the Fourth Prince was not merely providing resources.
He was giving them a chance to break free from their origins.
Standing on a high platform, William watched the sweating youths below and felt a trace of satisfaction.
These people were like unpolished jade. As long as they were given enough pressure and nourishment, they would inevitably shine.
“Tos.”
He suddenly spoke.
“Distribute the spare iron armor from the warehouse. Let them get used to fighting with weight.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The weight of the iron armor pressed heavily upon the youths’ shoulders, greatly increasing the difficulty of their training. Yet their shouts only grew louder.
Sunlight fell across their young faces, reflecting sweat and stubborn determination.
When William rode to the slave manor, the iron gates were slowly opening. The turning hinges creaked with the rusty scent of age.
The sounds of training inside the manor were louder than before. The early lethargy had vanished, replaced by genuine sharpness.
His gaze swept across the training ground.
The three troublemaking youths who had once led the disturbance were long gone. Several instructors had made them “disappear” completely. No one dared ask where they went, and no one dared slack off in their prayers anymore.
The slaves stood in neat lines, swinging wooden swords. Their movements were still somewhat clumsy, but each of them exerted their full effort.
Those with magical aptitude were also practicing magic with all their strength while palace mages corrected them from the side.
Among them, the slaves who were already Professionals stood out the most. All of them had now advanced to Bronze Rank, and their progress was remarkably fast.
“Your Highness.”
Zoe’s father, Jess, hurried forward to greet him. He wore a faded old suit of armor, a steel sword hanging at his waist. His face was weathered, yet his eyes shone brightly.
Ever since he had been appointed as an instructor, his posture had grown straighter. He poured all the experience he had gained in the legions into training these slaves.
“The training is good.”
William nodded, his gaze passing over the sweating figures.
“Push them harder. After the Knight Ceremony, more slaves will be sent here.”
Jess immediately bowed.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
William looked at him, his tone softening slightly.
“Zoe is doing well now.”
“At the Knight Ceremony, you two can meet.”
“Speaking of which, she has improved quickly. She is already a Black Iron Knight.”
Jess suddenly raised his head. His eyes instantly grew moist, and the wrinkles on his face deepened with his smile as he rubbed his hands repeatedly.
“Re… really? That girl… that girl finally did not waste Your Highness’s cultivation!”
His voice trembled. He wanted to thank him and laugh at the same time, yet for a moment he did not know what to say.
“Continue training them.”
William turned and left.
Jess watched his departing back, then lowered his head to look at his calloused hands. Suddenly he straightened his back and walked toward the training ground.
His steps were steadier than before, and his voice became louder.
“Put some strength into it!”
“If anyone dares slack off, I will beat the life out of him! Whether you can rise alongside His Highness in the future depends on your own abilities!”
The slaves were intimidated by his presence and trained even harder.
When William passed through the corridor and pushed open the wooden door to the rear courtyard, he saw Koren practicing his sword.
The bearded man stood bare-chested. His bronze muscles bulged with each swing, sweat sliding along the tight lines of his body and dripping onto the stone slabs below.
Each rise and fall of the knight’s sword in his hand carried the sound of tearing air. The simple slashing motion had been repeated hundreds of times, yet he showed not the slightest sign of fatigue.
Hearing the movement, Koren sheathed his sword and turned. The blade flashed coldly under the setting sun as he bowed respectfully.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
“How is your injury?”
William waved his hand casually, his gaze falling on the man’s abdomen.
An Shadow Arrow had once pierced through that spot, nearly crippling him.
Koren straightened his back, gratitude evident in his voice.
“Thank you for Your Highness’s concern. I have completely recovered. I can now fully unleash the combat power of a peak Sky Knight.”
He clenched his fist and lightly struck his abdomen, producing a dull sound to prove his claim.
William nodded with satisfaction.
“Good.”
“Starting tomorrow, go to Manor No. 1 and train the commoner youths there. Make sure they form combat strength as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
Koren answered without hesitation.
William offered a few more instructions about the training methods, especially emphasizing the balance between solid foundations and practical combat. Only then did he turn and leave.
Koren watched his departing figure and bowed deeply once more, maintaining the gesture until William disappeared at the end of the corridor.
He raised his hand and touched the scar on his abdomen.
Beneath that skin had once flowed the Water of Life.
That miraculous medicine capable of restoring flesh and bone was almost impossible to obtain even with money. Yet the prince had used it on him without hesitation.
Even though they had already signed a contract, he would never forget such kindness.
Koren gripped the knight’s sword again, his eyes becoming even more resolute.
The sound of slashing resumed. This time, each strike carried a heavy weight.
He had to live up not only to his own life, but also to the prince’s trust—tempering those commoner youths into blades sharp enough to cut through thorns for His Highness.